


Watching

by Josselin



Series: Your Majesty [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Spanking, canon typical references to child sexual abuse, murder!Laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-24 02:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin
Summary: When Laurent returned to his own world, he determined that only a few hours had passed, but to him, it felt like a lifetime. Everything felt different. His hair was long again, after he had worn it shorter in the other world, and his shoulder no longer had a mysterious scar on it. But he no longer felt that he knew himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Weighed and Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834353) by [Kittendiamore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittendiamore/pseuds/Kittendiamore). 



> Back when Kittendiamore was writing [Weighed and Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834353), I had a lot of thoughts about the original Laurent of that world. (He’s called murder!Laurent.)
> 
> My thoughts about murder!Laurent grew into the previous fic in this series, Your Majesty. But I didn’t stop thinking about murder!Laurent, and I wanted him to take all of his new experiences from Your Majesty back to his original world, so that grew into this story!

Laurent had spent a week in the other world, most of which had been spent in bed. It had been a honeymoon of sorts, he had come to understand, celebrating the coronation of himself and his co-King, Damianos of Akielos. They had arranged for the two of them to retreat to their summer palace for some time alone after the coronation ceremony and the official uniting of the two kingdoms. From the way others spoke about it, it had been the culmination of years of work by the other Laurent, and a well deserved respite. 

When Laurent returned to his own world, he determined that only a few hours had passed, but to him, it felt like a lifetime. Everything felt different. His hair was long again, after he had worn it shorter in the other world, and his shoulder no longer had a mysterious scar on it. But he no longer felt that he knew himself. 

He sent Henri and Etienne away when they came to pass the evening with him, and instead spent time alone in his rooms, thinking of Damianos. The other Laurent was likely not alone. The other Laurent was probably in bed being held by his husband. Laurent felt uncomfortably aware of his own physicality. He was more cognizant of his clothes than he was usually, and the discomfort of the ruff of lace at his neck and the tightness of his corset. He ran his hands down his thighs and felt the nap of the fabric against his hands and against his thighs. 

He drank most of a bottle of wine and felt what it was doing to him, physically, the looseness in his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the buzz in his head. He felt turned on. He identified with some surprise that he felt as though he wanted to be touched. He wished that Damianos were here with him, in bed with him. 

He did not wish the inconvenience and vulnerability of searching out a suitor, but it had been convenient to emerge into Damianos’s bed with the hard part of wooing the man already done. 

The following day, Henri tried to corner him again at breakfast, and Laurent sent him away a second time. At lunch, he observed Auguste trying to only eat the dishes that Laurent was eating, again, and while that usually annoyed him, today he felt like he could hardly bother to feel anything about it. Laurent watched one of the pet performances with atypical interest. 

The evening meal came, and Laurent looked around the court, inspecting the men present with a new eye. He looked them over one by one. The first was too short, the second too thin. The third was too old. The fourth had an unkempt beard. The fifth Laurent did not care for, though he could not articulate clearly to himself what was wrong with the man. Halfway through the second table of courtiers, Laurent’s eyes lingered on one of the men. His name was Georges, Laurent thought. He was one of Auguste’s supporters, a minor nobleman from the east and a swordsman. He and Auguste trained together, sometimes. In the past, Laurent had only bothered to speak to him once or twice, to suss out his loyalties, and when he had been unwaveringly Auguste’s Laurent had not bothered further. 

Laurent let his eyes linger on Georges throughout the meal. As dessert was served, Georges noticed his stare. Georges met his gaze, looked at him curiously, and then broke their eye contact to speak with the woman sitting next to him. She looked up curiously at Laurent next, so Laurent presumed that he had said something like, “Has the Prince been staring at me all night?”

Georges and the woman conversed, briefly, and then Georges met Laurent’s eyes again, and then lowered his gaze to his plate. Laurent could feel Auguste’s gaze heavy on him, as usual, and ignored it.

After the meal, there was some music. Laurent refilled his goblet and made his way across the room. He stood in front of Georges and felt for a moment that perhaps he might not have to say anything, and then the silence drew out too long. “Would you care to join me in the garden?” said Laurent.

It was the same type of invitation he might have made for a private conversation to figure out a man’s loyalties, though the different purpose he had in mind made the words feel different on his tongue. He felt keenly aware that he had never done this before, and he disliked his own ignorance. 

“Of course, your highness,” said Georges, and Laurent turned and walked out to the gardens, hearing Georges’s boots echo on the marble behind him. 

Laurent led them to a relatively private corner of the gardens. He could hear the music from the hall only faintly, here. Georges came to stop a few steps from Laurent, and Laurent took a step closer to him, deliberately. Georges was taller than he was, and when Laurent was close to him he had to tilt his head back slightly to look Georges in the eye. 

“Would you like to come back to my chambers?” said Laurent. It felt both oblique and too obvious. 

Georges looked him over, which Laurent tolerated. Georges must already know how he looked, but Laurent was vain enough to know that his appearance was only an advantage in this. 

Georges agreed, and after only a moment in the garden, Laurent had turned again and was leading them to his bedroom. This was easier than he had anticipated.

Once they were there, Laurent set his goblet down on a side table and turned to look at Georges. Georges seemed to be waiting for Laurent to say something, or to do something. That was not what Laurent wanted. 

“Show some initiative,” said Laurent, and Georges looked slightly perturbed by this but took a step closer to him and began to unlace Laurent’s jacket. 

The encounter was unsatisfactory. Georges touched him too hesitantly, and he smelled wrong. He was attentive to Laurent’s pleasure, but the finish felt far off and Laurent began to wonder how long this could go on. 

After some time, Laurent said finally, “Enough.”

Georges sat up, looking uncertain. 

“You’re dismissed,” said Laurent, and Georges gathered up his clothing and left. 

Laurent lay back on his bed, still feeling the same pervasive dissatisfaction that he had since his return from the other world. 

He felt less than he thought he would. When he did not habitually do it, inviting someone to his bed had felt significant, somehow. Had felt like it would mean something to him, or have significance, or leave him feeling tender or vulnerable. 

Then Damianos had left him feeling all of those things, and obsessed with sex besides.

But now Laurent felt very little. He felt no different than he had before he had invited Georges to his rooms. Georges touching him had not changed who he was, or made him different than he had been before. 

The next day he let his gaze travel over other men at the evening meal. Georges being inadequate did not mean there was no one, Laurent told himself. He selected a man called Francis, that evening, though Francis turned out to talk too much. Laurent thought that perhaps this could be remedied by instructing Francis to suck his cock, but Francis had an appalling habit of pulling off to continue talking, and once again Laurent sent him away.

The following night, he extended an invitation to the Patran ambassador, a man called Horace. There was something promising in the authoritative way that Horace clasped his arm, Laurent thought, but Horace had unpleasant facial hair.

By the end of the week, Laurent’s new habits were causing a stir in the court. He was always on display, as a Prince, and who a Prince took to bed was always of note. Laurent had developed a reputation as a celibate Prince, also, so his sudden streak of lovers was more notable than the usual gossip. And one of the men had been indiscreet, too, so there were rumors circulating now that Laurent was impossible to satisfy. 

The rumors themselves must have generated a different type of attention, because the following week a man approached him. He was not a courtier who would have caught Laurent’s eye in his gaze over the room, being a bit older, but he found Laurent in the garden and said, “I heard you are looking for someone who can satisfy you,” and the tone of his voice as he said this caused Laurent to look again. 

“And you think you can?” said Laurent. 

The man took a step closer to him. Laurent felt a flutter of interest in his stomach. “I’m Jacqs,” said the man.

Jacqs was clearly intent on proving himself in their encounter, and Laurent liked this attitude. He closed his eyes and imagined someone else, but the firmness of Jacqs’s grip was satisfactory, and Laurent liked the way Jacqs repositioned him on the bed without asking first. 

Jacqs took Laurent into his mouth, first. Laurent could tell, objectively, that Jacqs knew all of the strategies of how to perform fellatio. He had made the same sort of study of it that Laurent had himself, and Laurent could watch Jacqs exercise the strategies as though the experience were happening to someone else. 

After some time, Laurent said, “That’s enough of that,” and rolled onto his stomach as a cue for what he wished next. He was only half-hard, but he had bored of Jacqs’s mouth. 

Jacqs’s fingers bored him also, and Laurent said, “Get on with it,” after the second finger, but Jacq’s cock was not all that much more interesting than his fingers. It occasionally brushed interestingly inside of him, but not reliably, and Jacqs made a very unattractive grunting sound as he fucked Laurent. 

Laurent considered this for a few minutes. At first he thought, perhaps this will get better. Then he thought, well, this cannot go on for much longer. Finally, he thought, this is ridiculous, and he shifted to cause Jacqs to slip out of him and he said, “We are finished here.”

“But we haven’t--” Jacqs gestured between the two of them, indicating the lack of climax.

“Was I unclear?” said Laurent, and raised an eyebrow and glared until Jacqs gathered his clothing and left. 

Laurent tried, next, to purchase time with one of the older pets, Vauquelin. Laurent choose Vauquelin because he had a discreet reputation, a pet who had bought out his contract many years prior but had made it clear he was willing to indulge a lover who would offer the correct gifts. Laurent was able to offer an amenable gift.

There was no pretense of mutual satisfaction. Laurent could direct Vauquelin as he pleased, and Vauquelin agreeably continued what he was doing or changed it at Laurent’s direction. He accepted both specific directions and general ones, equally agreeable whether Laurent explained exactly how he wished for his chest to be touched or if he said more broadly, “I wish for you to lead.”

Yet it was still not satisfactory. Vauquelin did not comment on Laurent’s loss of arousal mid way through their encounter, but Laurent himself felt keenly aware of it. Vauquelin suggested toys, and the pleasure objects he produced were interesting, but Laurent found them no more useful than Vauquelin’s mouth.

“No more,” Laurent said finally, and dismissed Vauquelin, and was not inclined to try the experiment again.

A delegation from Akielos arrived. 

Laurent watched Auguste greet the King of Akielos heartily, as though the two countries were not consistently on the verge of war, and Auguste welcomed Damianos and his entourage to Arles. Auguste showed off the palace and its finery, and Laurent watched from a distance with his goblet.

At the welcome banquet, Laurent’s eyes stayed focused on the King. Things that Laurent had forgotten about his week in the other world were coming back to him. The exact curl of Damianos’s hair on his forehead, the crease in his brow when he struggled with an unfamiliar Veretian word. 

Auguste drew up beside Laurent’s chair. “Laurent,” he said.

“Brother,” said Laurent.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” said Laurent, spreading his arms innocently. He was doing nothing. He was seated at the welcome banquet as expected, he had not been rude to the visitors, and if he had overindulged in wine that was hardly even considered a fault among royalty. 

Auguste retreated, frowning. 

Laurent continued staring at Damianos. He motioned for a servant to refill his goblet.

Auguste and his steward had arranged for Laurent to be seated on Auguste’s right and Damianos and the Akielon contingent on Auguste’s left, which was probably intended to keep Laurent from spreading seditious rumors among the visiting royalty, but had the consequence of making it difficult for Laurent to watch Damianos surreptitiously during the meal. He had a view via a mirror on the opposite end of the hall, if he wanted to regard the high table and Damianos in reverse, or he had to angle himself obviously to look down the table past his brother. There was no way to be subtle.

Laurent spent the first course using the mirror, and then as the servants refilled goblets for the main course Laurent decided he no longer cared about being subtle, and turned himself more obviously. 

Auguste and Damianos were making conversation in Veretian about sports, which meant that their words seemed vaguely suggestive even though neither of the two of them intended it that way. Laurent smiled to himself. 

Auguste leaned Laurent’s direction again, and said, “Laurent,” with a warning tone to his voice. 

“What have I done?” said Laurent.

Auguste couldn’t name a specific offense. “You are planning something.”

Laurent shrugged. “You have told me that my plans are ill conceived and lacking, so I am sure that you have nothing to worry about.”

“This relationship with Akielos is very important to us,” said Auguste, which was the beginning of a lecture Laurent had heard many times before, about how he did not wish for their country to go to war, which was supported with several lines of argument, one moral, one financial, and one about Laurent’s specific lack of interest in military arts. 

“I have nothing against Akielos,” said Laurent.

Auguste looked dubious.

“In fact, I was just thinking that I should take an interest.”

Auguste’s expression changed from dubious to suspicious.

“Excuse me,” said Laurent, in Akielon. It wasn’t a language he’d extensively studied, and Auguste knew that, but Laurent had learned a few phrases during his week in the other world, and annoying his brother was always a good reason to show off.

Laurent rose from his chair, bent to grasp his goblet and carry it with him, and crossed the dais to stand next to Damianos. 

“King Damianos,” said Laurent.

Damianos obligingly turned in his chair to face where Laurent was standing behind him. 

“Prince Laurent,” said Damianos. He pronounced Laurent’s name with a slight accent, which was different from the Damianos in the other world. Well, they had only just met here, Laurent supposed. “It’s so kind of you to welcome us to Vere.” Damianos spoke Veretian well, just as he had in the other world.

Laurent drank from his goblet and decided to get right to the point. “I would like for you to fuck me,” he said, exercising another of the phrases he had learned in Akielon.

Damianos blinked. “Ah,” he said, still speaking Veretian. “Let me introduce you to my lover, Nikandros.” He gestured to the Akielon man sitting next to him. 

Laurent turned to take in the man sitting next to Damianos, and let his gaze travel from the man’s head down his body slowly. He had similar features to Damianos, and their skin tone was both characteristic of southern Akielos. His build was similar to the King also, both of them were clearly athletic men who enjoyed sports. He was dressed simply in draped linen as the King was, and he was looking back at Laurent warily. Laurent thought he seemed vaguely familiar from his time in the other world. One of Damianos’s companions there, though in the other world there had been no mention of him as a lover.

Still, Laurent knew from books that monogamy was not especially important to Akielons. He drew his gaze back from Nikandros to Damianos. 

“He can watch,” said Laurent. 

Laurent flattered himself that Damianos looked tempted, tempted enough that he shot a glance past Laurent to see Auguste’s reaction. Laurent could not see his brother from this angle, but Auguste was probably not encouraging. Next to Damianos, Nikandros also did not look encouraging.

“Perhaps you have had too much to drink,” said Damianos, offering a polite excuse.

Laurent drank again from his goblet deliberately. “I have not,” he said.

Damianos’s lover spoke up. “In Akielos, we only sleep with men who can walk in a straight line along the floorboards.”

Laurent looked at Nikandros. “I suspected you were not particular.”

Laurent could have easily walked in a straight line along one of the cracks in the wooden floor of the hall, but there was nothing interesting about doing that. Instead, Laurent set his goblet down on the table next to Damianos, and then hopped up to stand in the middle of the table.

Damianos was watching him, almost everyone in the hall was watching him now. Auguste was saying his name and probably about to begin some kind of boring lecture on princely behavior. Laurent ignored him and looked up, gauging the distance between his spot on the top of the table and the balcony over the dais. He thought he could probably jump and reach it, and so he vaulted for it and managed to get a strong grip on the bottom of the balcony, and then used his upper body to pull himself up to stand on the outside of the balcony railing. 

The whole hall was agog. “Laurent,” said Auguste, louder. 

Laurent continued to ignore his brother. Instead, he stepped over the balcony railing, went to the edge of the balcony and used the wall there to step up on top of the railing, testing the give of the wood of the railing and the best way to balancy on top of it while wearing his boots. 

Finding his balance, he stretched out his arms and walked easily on the railing from one side of the balcony to the other.

On the other side, he rested one hand on the wall and turned himself around so that he could look down to see Damianos once again. 

“My bedroom is that way,” he said, pointing, and then he hopped off of the railing onto the balcony, and left the hall behind him all abuzz.


	2. Chapter 2

In the hall, there was likely all kinds of speculation. Auguste no doubt was wondering what Laurent was up to, half of the courtiers were probably wondering whether he had taken leave of his senses, the other half were probably speculating about how much the Prince had had to drink. 

Outside of Laurent’s chambers, Laurent gave instructions about his visitor, and left his guards to a round of speculation about how likely it was that the King of Akielos would actually show up imminently, and probably to a follow up set of wagers on how long the King would be permitted to stay before Laurent kicked him out like all of the others.

Inside of Laurent’s chambers, the only speculation he allowed himself was to wonder if Damianos’s lover Nikandros would arrive with him, or if the King would come alone. 

Laurent began unlacing his own jacket in preparation.

There was a knock, and his guard announced Damianos and closed the bronze door behind the King. 

Damianos looked around, taking in the room. The open archway of the loggia, the balcony overlooking the gardens. The ornate furniture, tapestries, and decor. It was nothing like the chambers they’d shared together in the other world, Laurent knew. 

“You are alone?” said Laurent, settling his own speculation.

“I’m with you,” said Damianos, a glint in his eye.

Laurent refused to acknowledge this cleverness. “Your lover is more particular than you are?”

“He prefers to know a man, first,” said Damianos. 

Laurent crossed the room to stand close to where Damianos had stopped near the door. Damianos took a step in closer to him. Laurent could smell him; he smelled the same as he had in the other world, somehow.

“And what do you prefer?” said Laurent. 

“I have simple tastes,” said Damianos.

Laurent drew on the lace of his jacket, pulling the cord slowly through the fabric and then letting it drop onto the floor next to his boot. “I am not,” he said slowly, “Simple.”

But Damianos’s only response to that was to take a step closer to him, to cradle Laurent’s head in his hands, and to kiss him.

Laurent liked it. He had not found kissing especially interesting with anyone else. What was one to do with their tongue? It all left too much opportunity for his mind to wander. But with Damianos he felt fully occupied with it, immersed. It was a pleasant combination of new and different and familiar, separate from his recent experiments and yet bringing back his memories of his time in the other world in a way that made his skin feel too warm. 

Laurent tried to undo his own clothing while Damianos was kissing him, and was only partly successful. After an interval, they broke apart and Laurent turned his attention more fully to his garments. 

Damianos’s garments were much easier than his own, and required only removing his brooch and letting the fabric fall to the floor. 

“I want you to fuck me,” said Laurent, filling his eyes with Damianos’s naked form in his bedchamber. 

“So you said,” Damianos murmured.

“You should also touch my hair,” said Laurent, “while you are fucking me,” he clarified. “And you may use your teeth on my shoulder.”

“You are very specific,” said Damianos, sounding amused.

“We can do whatever you wish after,” Laurent conceded, since in the other world Damianos’s ideas has generally been good ones, but Damianos just laughed and collapsed onto Laurent’s giant feather bed and then tugged Laurent down next to him. 

Damianos seemed at ease in Laurent’s bedroom in a way that none of his other lovers had managed, always seeming hesitant in the royal chambers, overawed by the surroundings and Laurents’ presence, or filled with bluster at covering any such feeling.

Laurent felt more at ease touching Damianos because of his time in the other world gave him knowledge of how Damianos liked to be touched, but Damianos had no such knowledge of Laurent and seemed equally comfortable. 

Laurent felt that he should be providing appropriate feedback on Damianos’s efforts, but he did not know what to say. “I like that,” he commented about one of Damianos’s particularly clever ideas, but by the time Damianos was on top of him in the bed Laurent could have simply repeated, “I like that,” over and over and it seemed foolish to do so. He enjoyed everything about Damianos taking him. He liked the way Damianos held him as he did so, he liked being surrounded by the man’s scent. Laurent liked the abandoned way Damianos spoke to him as he grew close to finishing. 

Damianos observed that Laurent himself did not climax during their first round of fucking, but he did not remark upon it, and gave Laurent a few minutes regardless before turning his attention to Laurent’s pleasure more deliberately, and it only seemed to take him a short while to find the type of gentle caress that brought Laurent closer to the edge. 

“You like it soft,” said Damianos.

“I don’t want to like it soft,” said Laurent.

Damianos continued his gentle caress. “I like to bring my partners pleasure. I like to see them abandoned to feeling.”

“I am not,” said Laurent, “Abandoned--”

“You are beautiful,” said Damianos.

“Speak Akielon,” said Laurent, directing Damianos to switch languages. 

He did, saying in his own language, “Your brother told me your Akielon was not very good.”

“It’s not,” Laurent admitted, in Veretian. “But it seemed more polite than telling you to be quiet--” he trailed off into a moan as Damianos’s fingers did something particularly inspired.

Damianos laughed, and then he put his mouth to better use.

Damianos stayed in Laurent’s bedchamber through the night, though neither of them slept. Laurent rested for a time in Damianos’s arms in between various rounds of play, but each of them had too many ideas to subside into slumber.

When dawn was visible through the balcony, Damianos sighed. “I must go.” He tightened his arms around where he was holding Laurent, though.

“You can be late to the meetings with Auguste,” said Laurent. “It will serve him right.”

Damianos laughed and let go of Laurent to sit up. “I promised my daughter I’d see her at breakfast, though.”

Laurent sat up next to him. “Daughter?” If there had been children in the other world, they had not been present while Laurent had been there.

“Princess Ione came with us,” said Damianos.

Laurent vaguely remembered something about a harem of bastards in Akielos, now that he thought about it. He blinked.

Damianos had retrieved his clothing and was draping it around himself. Dressed, he walked back to the side of the bed. “I enjoyed last night,” he said, in a low voice.

“It was adequate,” said Laurent, drawling.

Damianos laughed. “I would like to see you again.”

“You mean you would like to fuck me again.”

“That also,” said Damianos, still smiling. “If you are agreeable?”

Laurent felt shy, suddenly, and nodded quickly, hoping that he was not blushing, and then closed his eyes as Damianos gave him a final kiss before retreating into the morning light. 

One of Laurent’s guards was definitely on his brother’s payroll, because only a few minutes after Damianos departed for breakfast with his daughter, Auguste arrived. 

“Laurent,” said Auguste.

“Good morning, brother,” said Laurent, feeling tolerant.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.” Laurent gestured to his laid out clothing and his squire.

“What are you doing with the Akielons?”

“Cultivating an interest,” said Laurent. 

“Let’s not make this an incident between the kingdoms,” said Auguste. 

“He’s not that bad in bed,” said Laurent. 

“Why him?” said Auguste. “Are you trying to start a war?”

Laurent turned to his brother and looked at him more seriously than he usually did. Auguste was aging. He had streaks of silver beginning to show in his hair at his temples. He looked tired though he was only thirty-two. 

“I would have thought you’d be pleased at the idea of me gallivanting off to Akielos,” said Laurent. “You don’t want me here, you’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“You spent one night with a man who is practically already married,” said Auguste, his voice raised. “You are not going to follow him to Akielos.”

“Akielons feel differently about such things.”

“You wouldn’t even like it there!” said Auguste. “It’s hot! They are all barbarians.”

Laurent grew bored and ignored the remainder of Auguste’s lecture as he let the squire finish lacing him. He turned his attention next to the mirror and to his hair. It was a disaster. 

“Braids,” he said to the squire, interrupting Auguste’s lecture, and then he sat down at the dressing table. 

Auguste was spouting some emotional nonsense about Laurent being taken advantage of by the Akielons.

Laurent thought about cutting his hair. It had been much less work, in the other world, he remembered. But Damianos had seemed to like the length, so perhaps it was worth keeping. 

When his squire finished, Laurent turned to his brother. His attention had the effect of quieting Auguste temporarily. “You are going to be late for your meeting,” Laurent said.

Auguste opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You’re coming with me,” he said.

“I thought I was ruining relations between our countries,” said Laurent. 

“Prince Kastor will be there,” said Auguste. “You should make an appearance.” 

“You don’t want me in a meeting.”

“I want you where I can keep an eye on you,” said Auguste, and that was how Laurent found himself forced to attend the trade negotiations.


	3. Chapter 3

It was more interesting than other meetings that Auguste made him attend. 

When he arrived, Damianos smiled broadly at him, and Laurent gave him a cool look in return, which caused Damianos’s smile to dim somewhat. Laurent kept his eyes on Damianos consistently, though, and Damianos was clearly aware of that, and he glanced Laurent’s direction frequently. 

The morning was a very polite series of arguments. Most of the talking happened between the Akielon and Veretian trade ministers, with Damianos and Auguste speaking a fair amount. Prince Kastor said little, and Nikandros occasionally weighed in. Laurent said nothing in the meeting except to gesture pointedly to a servant to bring him a goblet. Auguste frowned at this and said, “Laurent,” in a disappointed tone, but Laurent ignored him.

As it was approaching time for the midday meal, Laurent—who could read his brother well—could sense that Auguste was about to agree to the proposal. Before this happened, however, Nikandros spoke. “Prince Laurent.” Everyone’s eyes turned Laurent’s direction. Laurent let his gaze move from King Damianos to Nikandros. “What do you think of the trade proposal?”

Auguste cleared his throat. “What about a break for our meal?”

Everyone ignored Auguste. Laurent tilted his head. “What do I think of the proposal?”

Nikandros nodded. Auguste looked resigned.

“As a Veretian,” said Laurent, “I find it galling that the tariffs in the proposal favor Akielos over Veretian cloth merchants. Yet I also find myself thinking that if Veretian cloth merchants trading in Akielos had any wits, they would have figured out how to get Akielons to wear sleeves years ago, to use more cloth, and so I am not certain how much pity I feel for them.” Several of the cloth merchants looked offended, and several others seemed thoughtful. Laurent wondered if he should invest in the thoughtful looking ones.

Nikandros frowned. “The proposal displeases you.”

Laurent shrugged. “I would sign it. We are unlikely to do better and it is time for lunch.”

“The proposal includes several provisions in Vere’s favor—” Auguste started.

“We can change the tariff,” said King Damianos, looking at Laurent. 

“Seven percent?” said Laurent, countering the earlier proposal. 

Damianos nodded. “Agreed.” Laurent held his eyes for a long moment. Nikandros looked back and forth between the two of them.

Laurent ate lightly at lunch, made pointed eye contact with Damianos, and then excused himself for some air in the garden before they turned to grain tariffs in the afternoon. 

Damianos was clever enough to take Laurent’s hint and follow him to the garden, where Laurent drew him to a secluded corner. Damianos was unfortunately too prudish to be convinced to fuck Laurent in the garden, though he was willing to go down on his knees and suck Laurent gently, even after Laurent informed him that he was not willing to return the favor.

Grain trade routes were even less interesting than cloth routes, though Laurent felt buoyed enough by his lunchtime encounter that he just enjoyed looking at Damianos and let the words of the economic minister wash over him. 

At the end of the afternoon session, Laurent could tell that Auguste was quite pleased with the agreement, and he thought briefly about interrupting his brother’s pleasure with an objection—he could probably convince Damianos to change the second treaty as well, especially if he was trying to change it in the Akielon’s favor. But it hardly seemed worth the bother, and he let the meeting conclude. 

Damianos came up to him after the meeting. Nikandros was standing next to him. “I’d like to introduce you to my daughter,” he said. “Will you come to meet her?”

Laurent struggled to think of a good excuse to not meet the Akielon princess, so he allowed himself to be led along to the rooms the Akielons had been allotted. 

“Does she take after you?” Laurent asked, as they walked. 

“Yes, very much,” said Nikandros. 

“That’s unfortunate,” said Laurent dryly, and Damianos laughed. 

Ione came in from the garden followed by her nurse. “Baba!” she said, running to Damianos’s arms. When Damianos held her out she leaned over and obediently kissed Nikandros’s cheek hello as well. 

“Ione,” said Damianos, “I would like you to meet Prince Laurent of Vere.” He spoke slowly in Veretian, and Laurent noted that if even the tiny Akielons were bilingual they were less barbaric than Auguste tended to assume.

“Hello,” said Laurent, using his own meager Akielon. “Welcome to Vere.”

Ione’s voice was musical. “Hello,” she said, offering Laurent a hand to kiss, and her manner was such that he took it automatically. Damianos smiled.

“Some day,” said Ione, “I will be Queen of Akielos.”

“I see,” said Laurent. It was typically Akielon to raise a bastard to think she would take the throne someday. Damianos was setting his daughter up for the same type of disappointment his older brother had experienced.

“Will you be King of Vere, someday?”

“No,” said Laurent. Before his time in the other world, it would have been a lie, but he had felt less interested in kingship since his return. “My brother has that duty.”

“I have a brother,” said Ione. 

“Is he quite tedious?” said Laurent.

Ione laughed, “No, he’s a baby!” she said, and then she squirmed out of her father’s arms and ran across the room in some kind of game. 

“She has a sister also,” said Damianos. 

“You have three children?” said Laurent. 

Damianos nodded. “Cassiope and Leo are too small to travel.”

A messenger came to the door, and spoke with Damianos, and Damianos excused himself to attend to something, and Laurent found himself alone with Damianos’s lover and child. Laurent thought about how to leave, staring across the room at Nikandros, and then Nikandros said, “This calls for alcohol,” and turned to a side table to pour liquor.

Laurent said, “You are smarter than I thought,” and accepted a glass from Nikandros.

“Damen likes you,” said Nikandros. 

“Damen?” said Laurent. 

“A small name,” said Nikandros. 

“Is this a preface to how you do not like me?” said Laurent, drinking.

“I don’t know you,” said Nikandros. “Sometimes, Damen is not good at seeing the world from others’ eyes.”

“Is that your role?”

“Yes,” said Nikandros.

“Have you figured me out, yet?” said Laurent, feeling vaguely curious. Ione came running over and crashed into Nikandros’s legs. He caught her without spilling his drink. Akielons were built like tree trunks. 

“People say a lot of things about you,” said Nikandros. 

Laurent actually paid several people to take note of the things that were said about him and repeat them to him, so this was not surprising.

“Let me guess,” said Laurent. “I’m dissolute, indolent, disrespectful to my brother, and care too much about my appearance.”

“I’m not going to let Damen be a pawn in some game you are playing with your brother,” said Nikandros.

“I will reassure you,” said Laurent, “That my interest in Damianos is purely prurient.”

Nikandros actually laughed, and raised his glass to Laurent in a toast, which Laurent returned, and when he had drained the remainder of his glass Damianos had returned. 

Nikandros looked between Damianos and Laurent, and then said, “What did the King wish?”

Laurent hadn’t realized that the summons that drew Damianos away had been his brother, so he listened with interest.

Damianos looked at Laurent before answering, which was a good sign that the conversation had been about him.

“He wished to emphasize Vere’s goodwill and apologize for any offense his brother might have caused.”

Nikandros raised an eyebrow at Laurent. Laurent looked innocent. Nikandros looked back at Damianos. “And your reply?”

“I assured Auguste that Laurent has not caused any offense. In fact, I told him we had invited Laurent to Akielos to visit.”

“Oh, have we,” said Nikandros. 

“Will you come?” said Damianos, turning Laurent’s direction. “I will show you the cliffs of Ios; the ocean there is very beautiful.”

Laurent wished that his glass were full again. “I have heard it is very hot,” he said.

“You’ll need different clothes,” said Nikandros.

“Oh, you wear clothes there?” said Laurent.

“Think about it,” said Damianos, and in the bustle of preparing for the evening meal, Laurent escaped.

At the evening meal, Laurent spent his time purposefully eating all of his brother’s least favorite foods, and then being gleeful inside at Auguste’s sour expression as he limited himself to only the dishes that Laurent himself was eating.

After the meal, Laurent ignored Auguste’s efforts to get him alone. Avoiding Auguste brought him face to face with Damianos. Laurent felt something in his stomach when he saw Damianos. He had thought it was a remnant of the other world and the magic that took him there, or of the strange Akielon food he had eaten in the other world, or perhaps something he had drunk the day before. But it kept happening, and he was forced to admit it was something about the man himself.

“Will you come back to our quarters, tonight?” said Damianos. The way he said “our quarters” extended the invitation from something between only him and Laurent to something that included his lover Nikandros.

Laurent wasn’t certain how he felt about that. He would have prefered to instead have taken Damianos back to his own quarters, without Nikandros, stealing the man away for himself. But he had no reason to counter-offer and Damianos had made it clear that he came with another man from the beginning. 

Laurent pushed past his strange reluctance and nodded. 

Damianos smiled, reached for Laurent’s hand, and caressed it gently. “I look forward to it.”

They were separated by the Veretian palace stewards, calling each of them to their roles for the event, and then Laurent was cornered by Henri. 

“You have been almost impossible to speak with,” said Henri, sounding annoyed.

“I have been busy,” said Laurent. 

“What came of your investigations of the cave?” said Henri. “Was there research there for our plans?”

The ostensible reason for traveling to the cave on the border of Akielos and Vere had been some sort of royal artifact that might be of value to them. Laurent hadn’t wanted to reveal to anyone else the true power of the cave when he hadn’t been certain that it would work, and now that he knew it did work he was even less interested in sharing the secret. 

“It was empty,” said Laurent. 

Henri clucked. “A disappointment,” he said. “Still, we have other plans. Will you come to the school this week?”

Laurent weighed the idea of visiting the school with the notion that he might spend more time with visiting King Damianos, and found the charms of the school lacking. “Perhaps next week,” he said. “Bring me a report of how it is progressing.”

Henri continued to expound on the progress, but Laurent found himself uncharacteristically uninterested. His thoughts were already in Damianos’s chambers, imagining what might happen later in the evening. 

Laurent’s distraction allowed Auguste to corner him as well. “Excuse me,” said Auguste to Henri, waiting for Henri to leave. Auguste rested a hand on Laurent’s forearm as though Laurent were a small child who might wander off. 

“Laurent, you cannot be thinking of going to Akielos?” said Auguste. “Damianos said he has issued an invitation.”

Laurent had not been thinking particularly of going to Akielos, but now sheer perversity drove him to the opposite statement. “He told me the cliffs of Ios are particularly lovely,” said Laurent. “The water is apparently the same color as my eyes.”

Auguste sputtered. “And you will let a lover’s sweet nothings lure you to the middle of the barbarian’s den?”

“Barbarians have their charms,” said Laurent tolerantly. A servant walked by and Laurent signalled at her that he wanted another drink. 

“You drink too much,” said Auguste.

“Such things matter little among barbarians,” said Laurent. “I will fit right in.”

Auguste opened his mouth--undoubtedly to begin another lecture on Laurent’s flaws or the ways in which Akielos was culturally lacking--but Laurent interrupted him. “I have an appointment,” said Laurent, and he drew his arm away from his brother.

Laurent did not like having to go to Damianos’s chambers. He preferred to have Damianos come to him, where he was not stuck approaching the door and hoping that Damianos had remembered to tell his guards about Laurent’s arrival. 

Laurent was not going to argue with them, he told himself. If they didn’t recognize him and let him in right away, he was just going to leave, and that would be Damianos’s own fault. But the guards were well trained, and bowed as he approached, and opened the door for him without even expecting him to say something. 

The chambers in the east wing were divided, and the door to the other portion of them was closed, presumably because Princess Ione had already been put to bed. The guards closed the doors behind Laurent.

Nikandros was standing in the main room, holding a goblet. Damianos was not present.

“Good evening,” said Nikandros, in Akielon.

“Good evening,” said Laurent.

“Would you like a drink?” said Nikandros. 

“Yes.”

Nikandros poured. Damianos emerged from the adjoining rooms. He smiled upon seeing Laurent, and walked over to him and greeted him with a light brush of the lips. 

Nikandros held up the bottle to Damianos as an invitation. Damianos nodded, and Nikandros poured for him also.

“I have heard,” said Nikandros, “that in Vere, men are perverse in their sexual tastes.”

Laurent drank. “Perverse.”

“That they do all kinds of things with ropes or ties or devices made of glass or wood or metal.”

Laurent spread his hands, showing that they were empty except for the goblet. “Alas.”

Damianos laughed. 

“Are you quite disappointed?” Laurent asked Nikandros. 

“It is too early to tell,” said Nikandros, and Laurent found he was quite enjoying the edge to Nikandros’s humor. 

“What have you heard about Akielos, Laurent?” Damianos asked. “Are there similar rumors about Akielons?”

Laurent turned his direction. “I have heard,” he said slowly, “that in Akielos men wear skirts,” Damianos gestured toward his own and Nikandros’s clothing as though confirming that this were in fact true. “With nothing under them,” said Laurent, “so that when they bend over, from the right angle, it is as though they were naked.”

Nikandros laughed. “Test it out, Damen,” he said. 

Damianos laughed also, and agreeably set his goblet on a side table. “What is the right angle?” he said. 

“Face the wall,” Laurent said, directing Damianos to present his back to them.

Damianos did so, obligingly, and then bent over, slowly. 

“What do you think, your highness?” said Nikandros. 

Laurent made a considering noise. “Bend further,” he said. 

Damianos did, balancing himself on his hands lightly. He was impressively flexible for such a muscular man. 

Laurent walked over to where Damianos was posed, and flipped the fabric of his skirt up to fall on his back instead, revealing his behind completely. Damianos laughed. “I see I was right,” said Laurent.

Damianos stood up, and his skirt fell back into place as he righted himself. He reached instead for Laurent, and placed his fingers on the laces of Laurent’s jacket. 

Laurent had not been able to see, when he had first arrived in their chambers and had stared at Nikandros across the marble floor, how they would go from the awkward looks that the evening had begun with to undressing each other or to moving toward the bed. But now, Damianos lingered with his hands on the laces for a moment, as if asking if Laurent had any objection, and when Laurent said nothing he began to slowly undo Laurent’s clothing. 

Nikandros walked across the room to join them. He raised his goblet to Damianos’s lips, and Damianos drank, and then Nikandros drained it, and exchanged his own empty goblet for the full one Damianos had set down when he bent over. Damianos kissed Laurent again, and Laurent could taste the wine in his mouth. 

Damianos finished with Laurent’s jacket, and drew it off of his shoulders. Laurent raised his arms, and Damianos pulled Laurent’s linen shirt off over his head as well. 

Nikandros watched. “You could help,” Damianos told him, sidelong. 

Nikandros reached over and removed the pin from the fabric at Damianos’s shoulder, and then tugged on the linen so it fell to the floor. “There you go,” he said. 

Laurent took in the view. “That is very helpful,” he murmured, while Damianos was occupied with the laces on his trousers.

Laurent was still new to how two men negotiated in the bedroom together; he felt additionally uncertain about how such arrangements would work with three men. The atmosphere was easier than he expected. Damianos focused his attention on Laurent without much conversation, Laurent focused most of his attention on Damianos. Nikandros settled near to them with his goblet and watched, or occasionally teased Damianos lightly with old familiarity, and instead of being awkward, it was as though their long comfort with each other bled over to Laurent as well. 

Damianos brought Laurent to pleasure, and the notion that someone else was watching it happen caused Laurent to think of it a bit like a performance. He arched more than he might have otherwise, and thought of the noises that crossed his lips, and wondered how the candlelight reflected on his hair and his skin.

When his turn was finished, Laurent appropriated Nikandros’s goblet, and directed Damianos toward his lover with a casual wave of his hand, and Laurent liked how easily the King of Akielos followed his instructions. 

Damianos brought Nikandros to pleasure as well, obviously familiar with his body and his preferences. Laurent watched. It was not that much different than a pet performance in the court in Arles, except at the same time it was entirely different. The acts were the same, but the emotion between the men was different. And yet how was the emotion visible? Laurent did not know. It was something of a mystery to him why he felt so different watching this than he did watching two of the pets in the ring. Why this turned him on and he felt nothing but pity when watching a pet perform. 

Damianos kissed Nikandros deeply, afterward, and then rolled on the bed and turned back to Laurent. He took Laurent’s goblet and set it off on the side table. 

“I would like to take pleasure in your body,” said Damianos, nosing Laurent’s neck.

“You mean you want to fuck me,” said Laurent.

“Veretians are so crude,” said Nikandros. 

“It is sex,” said Laurent. “We don’t need to write poetry about it.”

“Will you let me?” said Damianos, his lips trailing along Laurent’s neck. 

“I am letting you,” said Laurent. “Get on with it.”

Damianos prepared him, and Laurent closed his eyes and breathed, and then he opened his eyes and caught Nikandros’s gaze, and then he shivered slightly. 

As Damianos took him, Laurent remembered the first time, in the other world. When he hadn’t known what to expect as Damianos pushed into him, and how it had felt, Damianos’s cock stretching inside of him. Damianos thrust deeper into him now, and Laurent made a noise, and then he realized that Nikandros would hear him, and he tried to not make another noise but couldn’t help himself, and then he thought of how in the other world, Damianos had said that he had loved Laurent at the end. 

As they rested, Laurent ended up somehow in the center. “I am hot,” he said, pushing at the sweaty men on either side of him, and each of them shifted a little bit but it made little difference. Laurent gave up and relaxed, breathing. 

“It is always hot when there are three in the bed,” said Nikandros, with a ring to his words as though he were quoting some proverb.

“Is this typical, for you?” said Laurent. 

“We enjoy sharing our pleasure,” said Damianos, leaning in to smack a kiss on Laurent’s mouth, and then leaning back to his portion of the bed. “Do you remember the first time, Nikandros?”

“With Kyra?” said Nikandros, sounding sleepy.

“A woman?” said Laurent.

“It is not taboo in Akielos,” said Damianos, smiling.

“How did you think he got the children?” said Nikandros, sounding less sleepy.

“What was your first time like, Laurent?” said Damianos, deflecting from Nikandros’s sarcasm.

Laurent opened his mouth, prepared to lie--perhaps he could describe his first time in the other world with the other Damianos, or he could give some made up story entirely, or some fable based on his unsatisfactory experience with Georges or Francis or any of the others. Then he let go of the lies, and considered deflecting. He should say something witty, or return to Nikandros’s sarcasm, or distract Damianos with a question of his own. And then he let go of his deflection, as well, and said simply, “It’s not worth speaking of.”

Damianos frowned. “Was your suitor not considerate?” He looked troubled.

“Damen will go punch him for you,” said Nikandros. 

“I would,” said Damianos, sounding offended. 

“There is no reason to trouble yourself,” said Laurent, surprising himself with honesty. “My brother took care of it.”

“Good,” said Damianos. 

“He still wants to punch him,” said Nikandros, his eyes closed. 

Their words took on the tone of an oft-repeated argument. “It’s good that Laurent’s brother was there for him,” said Damianos. “It is as I have told you. Brothers love one another, and even when they sometimes quarrel--”

“That is different,” said Nikandros sharply, and somehow in the space of a few breaths the room had become tense. Nikandros was half sitting up now. 

Laurent looked from one man to the other. “What are you speaking about?” he said.

“Nikandros does not trust my brother,” said Damianos, sitting up across from Nikandros.

“Prince Kastor?” said Laurent, thinking of the Akielon sitting on Nikandros’s other side at dinner.

“Kastor does not have your best interests in mind,” said Nikandros. “He is angling to take over your kingdom.”

“He’s my brother,” said Damianos. 

Laurent began to feel that being in the center was not the best place to be.

“You don’t have a brother,” said Damianos to Nikandros. “So you don’t understand. Laurent understands; he is not angling to take over his brother’s kingdom.”

“He stabbed you!” said Nikandros.

“That was an accident--”

“Quiet,” said Laurent sternly. All three of them were sitting in the bed and breathing heavily now. Laurent turned his gaze on Damianos. “You are wrong about brothers.”

Damianos’s eyes widened. 

Laurent climbed out of the bed. “You should listen to Nikandros’s counsel,” said Laurent.

Damianos looked over at Nikandros, who seemed surprised by this unexpected support, and then back at where Laurent was pulling on his clothes. “Where are you--won’t you stay to sleep?”

Laurent shook his head, and retreated.


	4. Chapter 4

In his own chambers, Laurent proceeded to get drunk. He sat on the floor near the balcony and watched bats flit around the gardens eating bugs. The air coming in from the outside was cool, and ruffled the edges of his unlaced jacket.

He slept fitfully, still sitting on the floor with his head resting back against the wall, and when he woke he simply took it as a cue to drink more. 

He thought about what had happened, with his uncle, in a way he did not usually. He forced himself to remember it, which felt like poking deliberately at an open wound. He thought of it often--he could not stop himself--but only in tangential ways. He would spot Lazar on duty and think, “I wish he was dead.” He would open his jewelry box and see a pair of earrings and think, “I was wearing those.” 

But tonight he forced himself to recount the entire evening. He thought of how he had felt, getting dressed, of the care he had taken with his clothing and his jewelry. He thought of how nervous he had felt when he had arrived. He thought of Lazar’s surreptitious departure, which he had barely noted at the time and was only significant in hindsight. 

He thought of Auguste’s arrival, and the way that he shouted, and Laurent made himself think of the fight. Laurent had screamed, during the fighting, and he had not known which of them he was screaming for. He remembered their faces, now, and how each of their doublets had been soaked with blood. There had been a terrible moment at the end, when Auguste had fallen with his hand to his shoulder, when Laurent had thought that they were both dead.

He had told himself later, that that would have been best. If only the two of them had conveniently dispatched each other, and Laurent would have been the only one remaining, and naturally he would have been the King and without having to put any effort into it. But he hadn’t felt that way at the time. It was hard to remember how he had felt at the time without all of the dust of his feelings in the intervening years dirtying the memory. 

Damianos was ridiculously naive if he thought that brothers loved each other. Laurent had made something of a study of his uncle after his death, and it was clear even from the official records that his uncle had not been a good brother to Aleron, and Laurent had his suspicions about what might have never made it into the official records. He thought of that sometimes as a justification for his own work. 

And Damianos misread his own interactions with Auguste as well, mistaking Auguste’s suspicions as only a brother’s concern. He supposed that was why the man was enough of an optimist to have several of his own children, rather than stopping after one to ensure that they were not pitted in an endless battle against each other. 

Around dawn his bottle was empty and Laurent found himself awake again. The birds were out now in the garden, making a racket of chirps and calls. Laurent couldn’t see any of them, but if their noises were an indication there was an entire army of birds.

He heard a noise from another direction, from his doorway, and then after some dispute with his guard, the door opened and Auguste came in. 

Auguste looked around the room, searching for Laurent, but he didn’t spot him at first, and so Laurent was able to watch his brother for a long moment.

Auguste found him, finally, and walked over to the balcony, scolding. “Laurent. Did you sleep like that--your neck--did you drink--are you all right?”

Auguste sat down next to Laurent, checking him over. “No,” said Laurent, and he rolled and let his head fall into his brother’s lap.

Auguste was visibly surprised, and held his arms up awkwardly for a moment before letting them rest gently on Laurent, one in his hair and one on his forearm. “What happened?”

“I drank too much,” said Laurent, closing his eyes. Auguste always asked the most ridiculous questions.

“I mean, why did you drink so much,” said Auguste. “I thought you planned to spend the evening with Damianos? Did something happen?”

“Are you going to stab him, also?” said Laurent, and he could feel Auguste tense beneath him. “I thought you said we should avoid starting a war with Akielos.”

“Did he--do something?” Auguste’s voice was terrible.

“He did nothing I didn’t wish for,” said Laurent. “Stand down.”

Auguste relaxed slightly, and ran a gentle hand over Laurent’s forehead. “Are you ill?”

“Our uncle,” said Laurent, and he felt Auguste tense again. “Did he kill our father?”

Auguste let out a long breath, and then squeezed Laurent’s forearm gently. “I think so, yes.”

Laurent nodded a little bit, feeling the velvet of his brother’s clothes against his cheek. “I thought so also.”

They had never spoken about this before. Auguste continued. “Father tried to keep him away from the court in Arles, because--” the reason for why their father would do this did not need to be stated. “He didn’t like that; he chafed at being exiled to the country.”

There was a period of silence. The birds in the garden were still unreasonably loud.

“I’m surprised you haven’t sent me off to Kempt,” said Laurent. 

Auguste was like a statue underneath him. “Are we talking about this, now?” 

Laurent said nothing.

“I didn’t want to send you away,” said Auguste. “I don’t want to send you away,” he corrected. “I failed to protect you once, if I sent you to Kempt--how could I do any better?”

“So you have thought of it,” said Laurent. 

Auguste sighed. “You know I have, I have to tell the council I won’t do it every other month.”

“He said,” Laurent said. Laurent wished that his bottle were not empty, and then he wished that there were a servant around that he could send for another bottle. “He said,” The two of them never clarified who ‘he’ was, when they spoke it was always understood. “That he would take me away, to Ravenel.” 

Auguste was quiet for a moment. “What else did he say?”

“I’ve never been to Ravenel,” said Laurent. 

“It’s a fortress,” said Auguste. 

“An unconquered fortress,” said Laurent. 

“There are very thick walls,” said Auguste. “Laurent, I would give you Ravenel, if I thought that mattered.”

“I don’t want it,” said Laurent.

“What do you want?”

Laurent wished again for a full bottle. “I don’t know,” he said. 

“I thought,” said Auguste, sounding tentative. “I thought you wanted to be king.”

“Not anymore,” said Laurent. 

“What changed?”

“I went to a cave,” said Laurent, because sometimes when he was extremely drunk he talked too much.

“A cave?” said Auguste.

“And Damianos is very good at sex,” concluded Laurent.

Auguste made a noise. “Are you really thinking of going to Akielos?”

Laurent made an indeterminate noise. “Do you suppose it is as hot as everyone says?”

“Yes,” said Auguste.

“I have heard that they all just walk around naked.”

“Did Damianos not include that in his selling points along with the cliffs like your eyes?”

“It’s the water that’s like my eyes,” said Laurent.

Auguste huffed.

“Apparently his brother is as bad as me,” said Laurent.

Auguste gripped more tightly on Laurent’s forearm. “What do you mean?”

“Nikandros thinks Damianos’s brother is scheming against him.”

Auguste seemed to be speaking very deliberately. “Oh?”

“I thought he was the only person I liked having sex with,” said Laurent.

Auguste was not keeping up. “Damianos?”

“The others were all wrong.”

“The courtiers you’ve been dallying with?” said Auguste.

“But Nikandros was fine,” said Laurent.

“Are you involved with him also?” said Auguste.

“Sometimes they sleep with women,” said Laurent.

“You slept with a woman?” Auguste sounded scandalized.

“You are not paying attention,” said Laurent.

“Oh Laurent,” said Auguste. “You should go to bed.”

Auguste stood, and then levered Laurent up to standing next to him, and half-walked, half-dragged Laurent to his bed in the other room. Auguste pulled his jacket off. It was still unlaced, and it reminded Laurent of how Damianos had pulled it off of him earlier the previous day. He missed it. 

Auguste left him in the bed and he dozed for a while, and then he dreamt that he was in Akielos and it was stiflingly hot all of the time, and when he awoke he threw off all of the blankets that Auguste had piled on him and then fell back asleep again, dreamlessly this time.

Around lunch, Auguste came to check on him, and reported that Damianos had asked after him at their morning session, and wondered if he would come to the afternoon session. 

“I’ll come to dinner,” said Laurent, and Auguste left him alone once again, and Laurent fell asleep.

Auguste seemed to have spoken with his steward again, because at dinner Laurent was seated next to Damianos. 

Damianos smiled when Laurent sat down, and Laurent smiled tentatively back at him.

Damianos asked how Laurent was feeling, explaining that Auguste had said he wasn’t well, and Laurent said that he was much improved, thank you.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, yesterday,” said Damianos, in a low voice. “Nikandros and I shouldn’t have quarreled like that in front of you--”

“I don’t mind quarreling,” said Laurent. 

“Still, it was thoughtless of us.” That much was true. They were foolish to trust such intimacies as Damianos’s brother’s treachery to Laurent, but he was not inclined to say so. “I hope you will forgive us,” said Damianos. 

“It’s forgotten,” said Laurent. 

Damianos invited Laurent to go on a picnic with them the next day, and Laurent accepted. After the meal, Laurent made a point to mingle with Prince Kastor. 

Kastor greeted him politely enough. Kastor’s Veretian was not as good as Damianos’s, but it was infuriatingly still better than Laurent’s Akielon. 

Laurent had made something of an art of determining a man’s loyalties, but all of his strategies were suited for Veretians. He debated how to proceed. 

“Tell me,” said Laurent. “Is Ios as hot as they say?”

Kastor looked Laurent over. “It depends on the season,” he said. It was summer now, in Vere, the weather almost as warm as it ever was. “In the spring or the fall,” said Kastor, “it might be like this, with more of a breeze off the cliffs.”

“That sounds very pleasant,” said Laurent.

Kastor nodded. “In the winter, there is often rain, and it is cooler. But in the summer months, such as now, the sun shines heavy all day. The sun reflects off the water and off the land and the air sometimes shimmers, it is so hot.”

Laurent took a step closer to Kastor. “And what does one do, when it is so hot that the air shimmers?”

“Nothing,” said Kastor. “Lie in the shade and wait for evening.”

“And in the evening?” said Laurent, letting his voice be suggestive.

“Are you trying to fuck the entire Akielon delegation?” said Kastor.

Kastor was more crude than the other Akielons. Laurent laughed flirtatiously. “I find it wise to meet many partners before I form...an alliance,” he said. 

Kastor made a considering noise, and Laurent did not wish to push the matter too quickly, and he excused himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Laurent had wondered how Damianos’s invitation to a picnic would turn into sex. Was it a veiled invitation to go somewhere secluded outside? Yet it turned out to actually be a picnic. 

A servant packed a basket of food for them, Princess Ione rode along in front of her father, his hands cautious at her waist, and they had instructions from Auguste on how to find Lake Ires. 

Halfway there, Nikandros and Damianos debated which path to take, and Laurent nudged his horse in front of them. “I know Lake Ires,” and of course he did, he and Auguste had used to go there often.

Damianos was clearly trying to make an effort in conversation. 

“Laurent,” he said. “Do you like riding?”

“It’s serviceable,” said Laurent, “when I need to go from one place to another.”

“You are not passionate about horses?”

“Auguste is the horseman, not me,” said Laurent. 

“What interests you?” said Damianos. 

Laurent’s primary interest of the last seven years had been planning how to take over the kingdom upon his twenty-first birthday. It had led him to study the recent history of the country, learn the loyalties of all the men in the court, cultivate the ones who were undecided, attempt to become popular among the common people, and even to investigate Henri’s rumor of the cave. 

“History,” said Laurent.

“A scholar,” said Damianos, his voice warm. 

“You interest me,” said Laurent, looking over at him. 

Damianos met his eyes. “You interest me as well,” he said. “I am glad I came to Arles and we have this opportunity to get to know each other.” 

Damianos went on to repeat his invitation for Laurent to visit Akielos. “I will consider it,” said Laurent.

The Akielons swam in the lake. Laurent rested in the shade, because if he took off his clothes he wasn’t going to be dressed again without the assistance of his squire. Damianos and Nikandros played some kind of game with Ione that involved tossing her up into the air and her landing in the water with a giant splash. The competition seemed to be which of them could throw her in a way that made a larger splash.

Ione seemed tiny, roughhousing next to her much larger parents, but she swam like a little fish, laughing as she was tossed in the water and popping up again to cling to whoever was throwing her a moment later.

After swimming, they joined Laurent to rest in the shade, and Nikandros and Ione unpacked the basket of food the servants had prepared. Nikandros passed Laurent a piece of fruit, and Laurent caught Damianos’s eyes before he bit into it, and then let the juice drip on his chin for a minute because he liked how Damianos’s eyes lingered.

They returned from the picnic. The evening meal was a family meal, so there were no entertainments and Princess Ione joined them at the table. Auguste commented on how Laurent seemed slightly sunburned and Laurent made a point to again talk with Prince Kastor. 

Kastor had already been drinking by the time that Laurent found him. When Laurent greeted him, he said, “Has my brother not satisfied you?”

Laurent ignored this. “I have a brother,” he said. 

Kastor rolled his eyes. 

“I know how tedious they can be.”

“If you are saying you want to be more adventurous in bed--” Kastor began.

“My brother does not have his own harem of bastards,” said Laurent, daring to be more direct. “So I can appreciate your problem.”

The atmosphere between them changed as Kastor took in Laurent’s meaning. It was a bold statement to make at a family meal in his brother’s court. Laurent rarely dared to be so direct, even though it was understood by most of the court in Arles what he was doing.

Laurent continued. “Damianos told me his son was born just a few months ago--were you waiting for a male child?”

“Akielons are proud to have queens,” said Kastor. “We don’t have your backward notions--”

“So you were not waiting for that,” said Laurent. Kastor was surprisingly easy to rile.

“You don’t know anything about us,” said Kastor.

Laurent looked him over, deliberately. “Perhaps not,” said Laurent. “And yet I think I understand you quite well.”

Damianos had caught Laurent’s wrist in the stables earlier that day and said, with dark eyes, “Tonight?” and Laurent had nodded, so when he was finished with Kastor and the dessert course had been cleared away and everyone was excusing themselves, Laurent followed Damianos and Nikandros and Ione to their chambers.

Laurent lingered awkwardly in the main room while Damianos and Nikandros left Ione in the care of her nurse. He looked around the guest chambers to see if he could find where Nikandros had left the liquor during his previous visit, but it was not obvious. 

Damianos and Nikandros finished and Nikandros closed the door connecting Ione’s rooms behind them. 

“You were talking to Kastor after dinner,” said Nikandros. His voice was mild, but Laurent could see why he was asking. 

“Yes,” said Laurent. 

“What did you talk about?” said Nikandros.

“Nikandros,” said Damianos. Laurent and Nikandros ignored him.

“He asked me if I wanted to be more adventurous in bed,” said Laurent.

Damianos had an interesting expression. “He doesn’t even prefer men.”

“And your reply?” said Nikandros. 

“I am satisfied,” said Laurent. “Or I have been--you are not making much of an effort right now.”

Nikandros rolled his eyes, but Damianos seemed ready to dispense with the conversation about his brother. “Is there anything particular you wish, tonight, Laurent?” 

Laurent thought back to his week in the other world. There had been plenty of things that he would happily repeat, but he was not certain which of them to even mention. “Have you run out of ideas?” said Laurent. “Were you hoping I would bring some toys?”

“I would happily see some Veretian toys,” said Damianos. “But I am not at all out of ideas,” and he began to undress Laurent. Laurent thought about the fact that the King of Akielos was intently bent over his sleeve with large fingers undoing the laces, and he liked it. He was being attended by a King as though he were a servant.

They were quiet for a time, undressing each other and themselves without speaking, and then Damianos walked into the bedchamber and sat on the bed, and Nikandros and Laurent followed without speaking. There was a time of touching and kissing. Laurent ended up with Nikandros in front of him and Damianos behind him, and he realized he and Nikandros had never kissed, and as the thought had struck him it was no longer true, because they had each leaned in and their lips had already met. Nikandros kissed like Damianos, Laurent observed. He had similar habits. Laurent supposed that it made sense that when men had been lovers for as long as they had, that they would have learned each other’s style. Or perhaps they had been lovers for as long as they had because they had a similar style to start with. Laurent did not know.

“How long have you been together?” said Laurent. 

Damianos hummed against Laurent’s neck. “Forever,” he said.

Laurent remembered that the Akielon word for ‘forever’ had a less infinite meaning, and was supposed to be just an exceedingly long time, and then he was distracted from linguistic thoughts by the way that Damianos’s hands were making him feel.

Laurent felt that his pleasure was growing slowly, and he pushed Damianos away from his neck to watch Nikandros and Damianos together for a bit. He would not have thought he wound find enjoyment in watching other men, but he liked seeing how Damianos and Nikandros knew each other. Damianos used his mouth on Nikandros, and Nikandros curled his fingers in Damianos’s hair affectionately. 

Nikandros finished with a shout, and the two of them nuzzled at each other for a bit. Laurent could hear them whispering to each other in Akielon, murmured words of affection. He moved closer to them on the bed. Nikandros sat up to watch and Damianos turned his attention back to Laurent. 

They kissed for a bit, leisurely, and then Damianos took to caressing Laurent, turning his attention from one part of Laurent’s body to another.

Nikandros was watching; his eyes were focused on Laurent’s face. Laurent ignored it, at first, and then met Nikandros’s eyes boldly, and then closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the sensation of Damianos massaging his back.

“Damen,” said Nikandros. Laurent opened his eyes and looked at Nikandros. Damianos turned attentively as well. “Hit him.”

Laurent’s eyes opened wider. He parted his lips, as though he were going to say something, but he couldn’t make words form. He almost couldn’t believe that Nikandros had actually said--

Damianos looked Laurent over, assessing, taking in Nikandros’s suggestion, and then, without saying anything further, he struck Laurent hard, the palm of his hand smacking against Laurent’s buttock.

Damianos looked at Laurent, waiting for some kind of reaction, but Laurent felt frozen with his mouth still slightly parted. Damianos turned to Nikandros. 

Nikandros was frowning slightly. “Harder,” he said.

Laurent was still flabbergasted. Nikandros was only a kyros. Laurent was a prince. How could he possibly--and that Damianos would listen--

Damianos was definitely listening. He turned his gaze back to Laurent and followed Nikandros’s second direction as well.

A noise escaped Laurent at the feeling. He rolled over to face Damianos.

“Oh, you do like it,” said Damianos. 

Laurent was going to say he did not. He was going to explain how offended he was that Nikandros would make this assertion about him, and ridicule the gall that would make Damianos act on it. The sheer effrontery. He struggled to even put words to how offended he was.

“Yes.”

“Again?” said Damianos.

Laurent waited, still staring over his shoulder into Damianos’s eyes. Laurent’s lips were still parted. Perhaps if he remained frozen in place eventually Nikandros would answer for him. The room was quiet. 

“Yes,” said Laurent. He turned back onto his stomach.

Afterward, Laurent rested half on top of Damianos, Damianos’s arms curled loosely around him. Nikandros was reclining next to them with his eyes closed. Laurent ran his fingers over Damianos’s hand, feeling the pattern of his palm, brushing over each of his fingers.

Damianos was talking, rambling about how good Nikandros was at spotting what other people liked.

“Or he thinks a great deal about which people he’d like to see you hit,” said Laurent mildly, his eyes on Nikandros. 

Damianos laughed, and Laurent could feel it where he was resting on Damianos’s chest. Nikandros opened his eyes and winked at Laurent.


	6. Chapter 6

Damianos invited Laurent to spend the night, and Laurent accepted, and the advantage of sharing a bed with two other men—both of whom were overly warm, Laurent thought—was that in the morning they had sex again, lazily enjoying themselves. Another advantage was that Auguste wouldn’t burst into Damianos’s room as he might Laurent’s.

Servants arrived to help Damianos and Nikandros prepare for the day, and Laurent retreated to his own wing of the palace and visited the baths before dressing for the day’s trade meetings.

The rest of the week passed in much the same way, with days of trade meetings and nights in Damianos’s and Nikandros’s chambers. 

Laurent was seated at the trade meetings now next to Prince Kastor, and he observed Kastor’s behavior closely to his left while putting on an elaborate charade of boredom. It was often useful to be underestimated, Laurent had found. 

The trade arrangements were concluded amicably at the end of the week, and the court and their guests celebrated with a hunt. 

It was an elaborate affair. Arles hadn’t hosted a hunt this large for at least a decade, Laurent thought, and the servants were running around to arrange transportation for all of the food and hunting guests who weren’t riding but were visiting on litters out to the arranged spot for the meal in the woods. 

The hunt itself was fast and successful. Laurent held back, riding along with the hunters but making no effort to be first to confront the boar, and left that pleasure to Auguste and Damianos. Laurent saw Damianos riding at the head of the group, and wondered if Nikandros was with him, but Nikandros was off to the side, riding close to Kastor.

Henri approached Laurent during the hunt. 

“Have you arranged it?” said Laurent.

“It was a great deal of trouble,” said Henri.

“But you managed?”

Henri conceded that he had, and gave Laurent the details of what he’d asked for and the time of the meeting. 

After the boar had been dispatched—“By throwing a sword!” said Auguste, amazed and perhaps already indulging in liquor—everyone was in fine spirits. The Akielons were toasting their King for a fine hunt, Auguste was toasting Damianos. Damianos was smiling at Auguste and Laurent and congratulating all of them on the successful trade arrangements and on being fine hosts. Laurent noticed that they were serving Auguste’s favorite dessert—a type of pastry with fruit inside it—and he thought he should take mercy on his brother and eat one so Auguste would at least enjoy it as well. He reached for one from the table, only to look over at Auguste and realize that Auguste had already eaten two-thirds of one, seemingly without caring that Laurent hadn’t touched it yet.

Laurent paused with his hand over the pastry, looking at his brother laughing with the Akielons, and then he reached for the pastry anyway and ate it regardless. Laurent liked that type of pastry also. 

The meeting Henri had arranged was in the royal baths. Laurent liked to meet in the baths. The flow of the water through the pipes from the kiln and into the bathing pool covered conversation, so it was a place where he was unlikely to be overheard. And when men met with him in the baths he could know that they were not carrying any weapons, and if they were in the middle of the pool it would be quite awkward for them to lunge for a weapon across the room before Laurent had time to call for his guards.

Kastor was already in the baths when Laurent arrived, and he was already naked, which meant that he had nothing to do but watch Laurent’s servant unlace him. Laurent met his eyes as his servant undressed him slowly, and thought about Damianos’s comment that Kastor preferred women. 

When his clothes were removed, Laurent dismissed his servant with a flick of his hand. 

“So?” said Kastor.

Laurent ignored him and lowered himself into the water. He did not mean to wrestle on slick tiles; he meant to have a conversation in the water. 

Kastor joined him in the pool. 

Laurent made it a point, when he held business conversations, to not rush things. He was often direct, but he also found that by waiting implacably other men often became uncomfortable, and then they did foolish things that were often to his advantage, such as blurt out their loyalties. So he made a point of relaxing in the water deliberately, and did not rush to speak.

Kastor settled on a bench close to him, but around the edge of the pool, so that they were not seated side-by-side, but could look at each other. Kastor took advantage of this, staring deliberately at Laurent with heavy eyes, looking at his face, and then drawing his gaze down Laurent’s body. It made Laurent vaguely uncomfortable, yet Laurent’s habit when he was vaguely uncomfortable was to steel himself and show no sign of it, so that was what he did.

After a time of looking, Kastor stood up in the pool and walked over to the bench where Laurent was relaxing and seated himself next to Laurent. Kastor stretched his arms out along the back of the pool, and his hand was very close to Laurent’s head. 

“So?” said Kastor, again. 

Laurent turned his head to look Kastor’s direction.

“Why did you invite me here?” said Kastor.

“I wanted,” said Laurent. “To know what kind of man you are.”

“So you arranged to see me naked?” said Kastor, smirking.

Laurent ignored this. “I have a proposal,” he said.

The smirk left Kastor’s face. “Go on.”

Laurent explained. 

Kastor did not require much convincing. They were not in the baths very long before they exited, and Laurent summoned servants back into the room to dry them with towels and help them to don their clothes again. They arranged to meet again later, to exchange the papers, and they exited the baths at the same time, but heading in different directions.

One of the squires responsible for towels in the royal baths was Aloys, who Laurent knew reported to his brother on Laurent’s behavior. Laurent tried to note the loyalty of the pages and squires that served the court, because that type of knowledge was useful to him. It was challenging to keep track, and Laurent had his own spies among the servants who reported to him, and that information was also useful, though not always reliable. Laurent paid no mind to Aloys as he left to attend to the day’s business.

At the next meal, Laurent could feel the nervousness in Auguste’s gaze on him, a weight to his brother’s regard that hadn’t been present during the feast after the hunt. 

After eating, Laurent met briefly with Henri, who gave him a sheaf of papers wrapped in a leather folder and tied with a leather string.

“This is what you asked for,” said Henri.

Laurent inspected it briefly. “Very good,” he said, retying the package.

“I don’t understand why you--” Henri began.

“You’re dismissed,” said Laurent.

Laurent went alone to the meeting place with Kastor. For some reason Aloys was lurking in the hallway of Laurent’s route, pretending to clean the torch sconces. Laurent spared him no attention.

They exchanged papers, Laurent turning over his leather folder in exchange for a folded piece of parchment. 

Afterward, Kastor said, “I have heard that in Vere, men’s sexual tastes are perverse.”

“Who is feeding you such nonsense?” said Laurent. “We’re finished here.”

Laurent went directly from his meeting with Kastor to the chambers where Damianos and Nikandros were staying. 

Damianos and Nikandros were not expecting him, so the guards had to check prior to letting him in. Laurent waited. 

Nikandros was summoned from inside, and waved for Laurent to come in, but once he was within and the guards had closed the doors again, Nikandros said, “Damen is busy.”

“I came to see you,” said Laurent, and he pulled the folded parchment from inside his jacket and turned it over to Nikandros. 

Nikandros took it, looked at Laurent, then unfolded the parchment and read it, then looked up at Laurent sharply. “How did you get this?”

The room to the chambers Ione was staying in opened, and Damianos emerged. His face brightened when he saw Laurent, then darkened as he took in Nikandros’s expression. “What is going on?”

Nikandros handed him the parchment, and Damianos read it. His expression tightened as his eyes moved down the page. When he reached the end, he looked up. “There must be some explanation,” he said.

“What possible explanation--” said Nikandros.

“I tricked him,” said Laurent.

Both of the other men looked at him. 

“I offered him what he wished and he was snared like a rabbit in a trap,” said Laurent. 

Damianos absorbed the words like a blow. Nikandros went to stand next to him, resting a hand on Damianos’s forearm. “He is not the man you remember,” said Nikandros. “He is different, I have told you--”

Damianos turned Nikandros’s direction. “You were right.” He did not stop with this acknowledgement. “I should have listened to your counsel.”

Nikandros murmured something in Akielon that Laurent did not understand, and the two men embraced for a long moment. Laurent began to feel that perhaps he should leave.

There was a disturbance at the door. Nikandros and Damianos separated, and turned toward the door as one of their guards came in. “Exalted,” the guard bowed at Damianos. “Kyros,” the guard bowed to Nikandros. 

The door opened wider, and a contingent of four Veretian soldiers pushed in, led by Lazar. Damianos’s and Nikandros’s guard seemed dismayed. The Veretian soldiers were followed by Auguste.

Damianos looked at Auguste, one King to another. “What is going on?”

“I am very sorry to disturb you,” said Auguste to Damianos. Laurent could see Auguste was distressed from the tight way he held his bad shoulder. Auguste turned toward Laurent. “Laurent, I need you to come with me.”

“Why?” said Laurent.

“Let’s not bother the Akielons with the internal affairs of Vere,” said Auguste. “I will explain in private.”

Laurent took a step closer to Damianos, positioning himself to stand half-behind the Akielon King. “I do not have secrets from the Akielons,” said Laurent.

Auguste was angry. His fury shone in his face. He gestured to his guards and they moved to position themselves around Laurent, though they didn’t touch him, yet. “I’m arresting you for treason to the Crown,” said Auguste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The evil cliffhanger of this chapter is dedicated to Kittendiamore.


	7. Chapter 7

Lazar took a step closer to Laurent and reached out to grasp Laurent’s arm. Laurent stepped closer to Damianos and Damianos reached out an arm to block Lazar’s reach. “What are the charges?” said Damianos. 

“Sharing of state secrets and conspiracy against the King," said Auguste.

"What is your evidence?" said Laurent.

Auguste gestured to one of the guards, who produced a leather bound sheaf of papers out of his bag. Laurent recognized it as the package he'd given Kastor.

"Does no one read any longer?" said Laurent, his frustration evident in his tone of voice.

"Show it to me," said Damianos, and his tone was royal enough that Auguste's guard looked to Auguste for direction, and Auguste nodded. 

They were being ridiculous, Laurent thought. Why was he being accused of sharing state secrets when apparently Auguste would just hand things over to the King of Akielos at his direction?

Damianos untied the leather knot binding the sheaf of papers, and read through the first page. The he flipped the first page over, looked at the second page, scanned it quickly, and ruffled through the remaining pages in the folder. He was much faster at reading in Veretian than Laurent would have been in Akielon.

"This is a copy of the trade treaty we just signed," said Damianos, looking up at Auguste in confusion. "We published it and sent runners off to each province with a record. It's hardly a state secret."

Auguste frowned. He walked over to Damianos and reached out his hand for the folder; Damianos handed it back to him. 

Auguste performed the same type of inspection of the folder's contents that Damianos had. Then he held the papers up to the light, as though they might be written on with invisible ink, and inspected them closely. There was nothing. "He said this was--" Auguste stopped, looking closely at Laurent.

"Let me guess," Laurent said slowly. "Prince Kastor said?"

Auguste nodded. 

"He was just as lax at reading the papers I gave him as you were," said Laurent. Or Kastor's Veretian reading hadn't been very good. Laurent had in fact specifically asked Henri to get a copy of the treaty in ornate penmanship, hoping for it to be harder to read.

"So you did give this to him," said Auguste.

Laurent nodded. 

"That's how you got the letter," said Nikandros, understanding dawning in his voice.

Laurent nodded again.

"What letter?" said Auguste. 

Nikandros looked to Damianos, and Damianos hesitated, and then nodded, so at least someone was being mildly cautious about sharing their secrets. Nikandros handed the folded sheet of parchment to Auguste. 

It took longer for Auguste to read this time--it was in Akielon, after all, it had taken Laurent longer to decode also--but after he did so, his face was grave.

"You traded Kastor a copy of our trade agreement for this letter?" said Auguste. His face looked like he could not decide if he was disappointed with Laurent or impressed.

Laurent nodded. "Yes."

"And then you gave the letter to Damianos."

"I brought it to Nikandros just now," said Laurent. 

"A few minutes ago," said Nikandros. "We were just reading it."

"We did not ask him to do this," said Damianos. "I wouldn't have wanted Laurent to risk anything on my behalf. But I appreciate the intelligence he has brought me, even though the knowledge of my brother's treachery saddens me." There was a long pause. Auguste looked down at the letter again, then back at Laurent searchingly, and then at Damianos. "I am sure that you understand the feeling," said Damianos, deliberately.

Auguste flushed, slightly. "Yes," he said, and then he looked at Laurent again, meeting Laurent's eyes. "Worrying about betrayal is one of the worst feelings." Laurent met his gaze evenly, but did not move from his position still half-behind Damianos. 

One of the guards shuffled his feet nervously. Damianos glanced his direction and then looked back at Auguste. "It seems there is a misunderstanding," said Damianos.

Auguste was still staring at Laurent. Laurent looked back at his brother. 

"It seems so," said Auguste. He raised a hand, and his guards began to file out of the room. 

Auguste and the Akielon guard were the last two remaining. Auguste looked at Damianos. "I'm sorry for the disturbance," he said. "I hope you won't think any less of our hospitality."

Damianos assured him that he wouldn't.

"Please let me know if you require any assistance," said Auguste, nodding at the letter he'd returned to Nikandros.

Damianos thanked him for the offer.

Auguste left.

The Akielon guard began to apologize for his failure to stop the Veretians from entering.

"It's all right, Pallas," said Nikandros. "Please return to duty."

They were alone again.

"If Kastor has been speaking with Auguste, then you must act quickly," said Nikandros. 

Damianos nodded. "Will you summon the guards?" Nikandros nodded and stepped out of the room.

Laurent turned to Damianos. "I will let you--" he started to excuse himself.

"Please stay here," said Damianos.

"I know you have things to attend to," said Laurent.

"You have put yourself right in the middle of this," said Damianos. He seemed to be putting some effort into keeping his voice even. "I worry for your safety while Kastor is not in custody."

Laurent was not sure what to say, and after a moment, Damianos continued. "If you remain here, I will worry less for your well being. It would be a comfort to me."

No one had ever told Laurent that his presence was a comfort, before. He cleared his throat. "One condition," he said.

Damianos raised an eyebrow. 

"Where did Nikandros put that liquor bottle the other night?"

Damianos laughed.

Kastor's protests of his innocence were less successful than Laurent's had been, and evidence that Nikandros had already compiled was joined with the letter Laurent had received to await Damianos's judgement when they returned to Akielos. Meanwhile, Kastor was under guard in his allotted chambers.

Nikandros saw to the arrangements for Damianos's brother personally, and it was late by the time he was finished and returned to their chambers. Damianos was already there, going over some of the other letters Nikandros had accumulated, and Laurent was reclined on a settee with a goblet in his hand. He had only filled it once, however. His mind was occupied.

Nikandros sat down on the settee next to Laurent. He took Laurent's unoccupied hand in his own and squeezed it, and then raised it to his lips and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Thank you," he said. 

"For meddling in your affairs and almost getting arrested?" said Laurent.

Nikandros smiled. "Yes." He kept hold of Laurent's hand and turned toward Damianos across the room. "It's late, Damen," he said. "Come to bed."

Damianos made a noise of acknowledgement, and began to set the papers he was reading aside in a pile. 

"Is it always like this, in Vere?" said Nikandros. "Full of plots and intrigue and hidden messages?"

Laurent swallowed. He felt especially conscious of the fact that Nikandros was still holding his hand. "Yes."

Damianos walked over, and rested a hand on Nikandros's shoulder. "Tiresome," he said. "Are you certain you don't wish to come back with us to Akielos?"

Laurent wet his lips. "I have been thinking about it," he allowed, and he liked the way Damianos's face lit up with a smile.


	8. Epilogue

Damianos was invited to Auguste's wedding, of course, and Nikandros as his guest. Laurent was established enough, after three years, as a lover of the King of Akielos, that he might have merited an invitation to Auguste's wedding as well, even though Veretians didn't have the same notions about groups of lovers that Akielons did. But Laurent received his own invitation regardless, because Auguste was his brother. 

They discussed not going--or some of them not going--after the assassination attempt. Perhaps the children they had planned to take should stay at home, but none of them wished to leave them alone. Perhaps Nikandros would stay with them. Perhaps Damen would stay with them. Laurent had been the one they clung to after the attack, perhaps he would stay. And finally they all agreed to go. The attempt on Ione’s life had been made in the nursery within the palace itself, so it was hard to convince themselves that leaving the children behind was safer.

Auguste’s wedding was at Chastillon, which Laurent knew from his father's annual hunting excursions, but it was decorated so richly for the royal wedding that he might not have even recognized it. 

Nikandros stared at the palace as they approached. They stopped the carriage to let the children out to see the palace from a distance. "It is like one of those giant cakes that Laurent likes, with many layers."

"Except it is a palace," said Damianos.

"I don't think it would taste very good," said Laurent. "But it is traditional to serve cake at a wedding, and the cake will probably be excellent."

"You have such a sweet tooth," said Damianos, with affection, and Laurent smiled at him.

Auguste came out to greet them, as they arrived, because Damianos was a King and Laurent was his brother, and when they walked up the steps to where he waited he shook Damianos's hand heartily before they embraced, and then Auguste turned to take Laurent into a more cautious hug. "I'm so glad you can be here to celebrate with me," said Auguste.

"Celebrate with you?" said Laurent. "I am here to console Joyieux on her terrible fortune in having agreed to marry you--" Auguste laughed and pulled him into a hug again.

The carriage arrived in the courtyard, and the door opened, and Nikandros went to go and help the children out. Damianos proudly introduced Auguste again to Ione, who he had met before, and also to Leo and Cassiope. "Eradne and Aratia are too small to travel," Damianos said, as Auguste knelt down and solemnly shook hands with Leo and Cassiope.

"You are blessed with a fine family," said Auguste. 

"You will have your own family, soon," said Damianos encouragingly.

"I hope so," said Auguste, and then Joyieux came out of the palace and the introductions continued.

The wedding ceremony itself was tedious, but the celebration afterward did indeed involve cake. The cake was delicious--the Akielons were good at many things but pastries were not one of them--and Laurent indulged by eating three pieces of it. Cassiope came up to him, having tired of dancing with her sister, and said, "Can I have more cake?" and Laurent was feeling indulgent, so he said, "Yes, but don't tell Nikandros," and let the servants bring them another piece and snuck Cassiope bites of it when no one else was looking.

Auguste came to sit next to Laurent just as the last bit of cake disappeared and Cassiope started to squirm to get off of Laurent’s lap. Laurent let her down, and she ran off to where Leo and Ione were playing.

“Laurent,” said Auguste, looking sidelong. “Can I speak with you?”

“You seem to be doing just that,” said Laurent.

“Privately,” said Auguste. “Join me on the balcony.”

“You really shouldn’t leave your own wedding celebration.”

“Please,” said Auguste. 

Laurent followed him to the balcony. When he had been growing up in Vere, a meeting on a private balcony was dangerous. There could be archers hidden at the top of another turret, and it was private away from the party for someone inclined to use a knife. Those who liked risking privacy for their assignations with their lovers or their pets often had their guards check out the space first, and then positioned their guards at the entrance so they were not surprised during the act, and Laurent spotted Lazar discretely leaving the balcony as they approached, having likely completed just such an inspection.

In Akielos, the men were too shy to either fuck or murder on a balcony. They would roll together naked in a sand pit willingly enough--wrestling was Laurent’s favorite spectator sport--and Damen and Nikandros enjoyed relaxing on a balcony to watch the ocean and enjoy the breeze. But if Laurent suggested bedplay, or let his kissing grow too amorous, then they tugged him inside to the bedchamber.

Lazar looked as though he would like to pat Laurent down for weapons before he let the two of them go out on the balcony together, but Auguste shook his head minutely at Lazar and the guard did not say anything. 

The balcony was a lover’s spot. It was narrow, with room for two men, and a bench where they could sit and look over the railing to the gardens.

“Laurent,” said Auguste earnestly, touching Laurent’s knee. “I am glad you are happy.”

Laurent considered and discarded several rude replies, his mouth slightly open. After a long moment he said, simply, “Akielos agrees with me.”

Auguste shook his head fondly. “It must all be very exotic,” he said. “I heard a rumor earlier today about how you keep a harem of women, very scandalous.”

Laurent laughed. “I am not interested in women,” he said. “Damen might be tempted, but Jokaste would probably object.”

“Jokaste?” said Auguste. 

“The children’s mother,” said Laurent.

Auguste nodded, though his expression still suggested that Akielons were impossibly barbaric and he might never understand.

“I heard,” said Auguste, looking more serious. “About what happened to Ione.”

“Nothing happened to Ione,” Laurent said fiercely. 

“I meant, that she was attacked,” said Auguste. After a moment he said, “And that you saved her.”

She had been attacked, in the middle of the palace in the middle of the day, and it had been only chance that Laurent had walked into the nursery in time to see the assassin pulling a knife. Laurent had responded without thinking, and normally having acted so blindly on instinct would cause him regret, but he had no regrets about what he had done to that assassin. 

He could see where Auguste was going with this, and he considered being obtuse, and rejected it. “I suppose you think it should give me an understanding of your actions,” said Laurent. “Since we now have this in common.”

Auguste shook his head. “It is not something I would wish an understanding of on anyone.” There was an undercurrent of genuine goodness in Auguste that sometimes reminded Laurent of Damianos. “I do hope,” Auguste continued. “That someday you might forgive me.”

“Do you think Ione bears a grudge against me that requires forgiveness?” said Laurent.

Auguste seemed surprised. “She seems greatly attached to you. But the assassin was a foreigner, and not a relative.”

“I would have done the same if it had been her mother,” said Laurent fiercely. 

Their talk turned to lighter topics. Auguste mentioned a new Akielon policy about olive exports, and his admiration for it. “I shall have to ask Damianos about it,” he said.

“That my policy was my doing,” said Laurent. “What were you curious about?”

“You work on Akielon trade policies?” said Auguste.

Laurent nodded. Damianos and Nikandros were both better at military discussions than he was, but he had more patience with and interest in domestic matters than they did.

“Perhaps we could speak more of it later,” said Auguste. 

There was an interlude of companionable silence.

“Do you remember the book of fables Mother read to us?” said Laurent.

Auguste looked confused. “As bedtime stories?”

Laurent nodded. 

Auguste was about to ask a question, but Laurent interrupted him. “There was a story about a Princess who traveled to a magic cave and made a wish--”

“For her true love to be restored to her,” Auguste finished. “I remember the story.”

“The cave is real,” said Laurent.

Auguste did not look yet like he believed this. He was probably about to ask how much Laurent had been drinking.

“I sent out scouts,” said Laurent. “And I had a report from a shepard, so when I said I was going hunting at Chastillon the spring before I left for Akielos--” that had been his cover story for the court when he left, “--I went to find the cave myself.”

Auguste was interested now, Laurent could tell.

“I didn’t really believe that it would work,” said Laurent. “How can such a thing exist outside of stories? But I did not see the harm in visiting.”

Auguste leaned in, listening.

“There was writing, on the walls. It was in both Veretian and Akielon,” said Laurent. “And so I made a wish. To be King.”

“But you aren’t King,” said Auguste. “It didn’t work.”

“I went to another world,” said Laurent. “It did work. I was King there.” He decided not to try to explain the complicated part about how he had been King of New Artes in the other world.

“You had a dream?” said Auguste. “Perhaps the cave has some kind of drug--”

Laurent felt quite confident that was not how it worked, but he shrugged. “In the dream I was the King,” he said.

“Where was I, in this dream?” said Auguste.

“I don’t know,” said Laurent. He hadn’t been able to learn anything about Auguste and he had been too afraid of giving his ignorance away to ask. 

“And so?” Auguste prompted.

“The cave--” Laurent hesitated, choosing his words. “It helped me to understand what I truly want.”

There was another silence.

“And what you want is to live in Akielos?” said Auguste.

“I would happily move Ios to Kempt, if such a thing were possible,” said Laurent. “It is beastly hot.”

“I don’t remember any stories mother had about moving cities,” said Auguste, with a smile.

Laurent laughed. “But I don’t think I could persuade Damen away from the south, even if I did manage to move Ios.”

“And you are happy, with him?” said Auguste.

Laurent nodded, feeling suddenly shy.

“And with--” Auguste pressed, “--his other lovers? And his children? And setting up Akielon export policies on olives?”

Laurent nodded again. 

“I am glad,” said Auguste. 

There was a third time of silence. 

“Do you want,” said Laurent, “for me to tell you where the cave is?”

Auguste looked into his eyes. Laurent met his gaze. “No,” said Auguste. “I am content where I am.”

Auguste reached for Laurent’s arm, grasped it warmly, and drew Laurent out of the alcove. “Let us go enjoy the party.”


End file.
